When Stars Cross
by Alpha Starwell
Summary: It's a typical, boring day onboard the Enterprise... until something happens that may draw the attention of the Reapers to the Federation and other neighboring territories. I'm kinda making this one up as I go along, I'll admit, so... feel free to give suggestions or input as I go. It's just kind of a boredom tamer.
1. Chapter 1

It was another typical day on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, although today was more "typical" than most. Specifically, it was one of those boring days where the crew was tasked to mapping an uncharted area on the very outskirts of Federation territory. Thus far, this area appeared to be unclaimed and uninhabited, and it was well away from the Romulan and Klingon territories.

Therefore, it could easily be a golden opportunity for Starfleet to expand the Federation's territory, not to mention claim any valuable resources that may be discovered there.

Captain Kirk oversaw the beginnings of the mission, basically giving the token "go ahead and start doing your jobs because your captain authorized you" kind of orders. In truth, this was one of those missions where he wouldn't have much to do personally, except ask everyone how it was going and file reports of a job well done in the end, particularly if they didn't find anything new or interesting.

There was always a chance that they might encounter a strange anomaly, a new species, a new world, a wayward ship, or even some valuable resources in an asteroid field or the like. Thus far though, the area seemed pretty barren of anything remotely interesting or valuable.

Therefore, it appeared that this would simply be one of those missions where Kirk would just end up filling out electronic paperwork and having Uhura submit reports to Starfleet when everything was finished.

It wasn't that Kirk felt useless during these kinds of missions, because there would still be plenty for him to do. It was just that there were no command decisions to be made. On top of that, his crew were some of the most capable and competent people in Starfleet, at least if he had anything to say about it. They were the last people in the galaxy who would need anyone hovering over their shoulders to make sure things were getting done.

Spock, as the chief science officer, would be overseeing this one directly. Sulu would be manning the helm, and Chekov would be using his navigational expertise to assist Spock. Uhura was monitoring communication channels in case they received any new transmissions from Starfleet, and just in case she picked up anything whatsoever from the area of space being charted.

In cases like this, it wasn't like Kirk felt all that useless. When he first signed up to train at the academy, one of the first things he had learned as a raw cadet was that there would be boring jobs right along with the exciting ones, and both were equally important. He was duty bound to complete any and all tasks to the best of his ability, and he knew that he and his crew were up for it.

It was just that… there were some days when, for some reason, the itch to explore and meet new life and new peoples made itself more profound. Today just wasn't one of those days when he wanted to sit around on the Enterprise and file reports while glancing up to check on crew personnel who he already knew were doing excellent jobs. Today was a day that he just wanted something extraordinary to happen.

James T. Kirk was not a man who ever sought after fame (even if knowledge and news of his crew's adventures, successful missions and heroics were often widespread), nor did he seek personal glory. He was just a man who wanted to make a difference, to see what was out there in places that no man had ever gone before.

He supposed that he had a spirit similar to those who used to sail the seas on Earth in centuries past, those who weren't sure what was out there or what dangers they may face. He thought briefly of Columbus, the man who had risked everything—his life, his ship, his crew—to find an easier trade route for his country, and came across the New World.

Nowadays, Earth was entirely mapped and occupied to the point where there was nothing left to discover. There was no more unexplored territory, and humanity had done quite well over the millennia to evolve from stick-wielding cavemen struggling to survive to a highly advanced people who used transporters on a daily basis to reach different areas of their world. There were barely even any barriers anymore, even if the borders separating different countries existed strictly for a matter of cultural identity, heritage, and traditions.

In the end, it was no wonder humanity turned toward the stars. It was the only place left to turn. The ironic thing was that, when humanity once thought that their own world was vast, frightening and dangerous (on top of being flat with the sun revolving around it), now it turned out that humanity's previous blue marble was only less than a tiny pinprick amidst a vast universe, much of which had still not been discovered or charted.

A slight motion out of the corner of his eye interrupted his reverie. He glanced in the direction of Uhura, having caught a glimpse of something metallic along with something… yellow, and light green. It took him a moment to remember what she was working with in her hands, and then he smiled. Yes, he recognized those items, even if he hadn't seen them for a long time.

There were some times when Kirk permitted a slight lax in regulations on the bridge, particularly on days like this when some people wouldn't have much to do unless something unexpected happened. While it was always important to expect the unexpected and be prepared for it, Kirk permitted a small amount of leeway.

Plus he knew that Uhura's favorite cousin back on Earth was expecting a baby, and she wanted to hand-knit a few things. Kirk found himself staring in spite of himself as she moved a pair of silver knitting needles between her fingers with the grace of a skilled musician playing a violin. Observing the movements of her hands brought Kirk back to his own childhood, causing the corner of his mouth to uplift into a slight smile. He had completely forgotten his early childhood days when his mother used to knit.

How could he have forgotten something so simple, something that brought forth such a warm and fuzzy memory? Perhaps that was what happened when one became an adult. The early impressions of youth, along with the memories, got washed away and replaced with life lessons, experience, and adult responsibilities and knowledge.

Yet there would always be the memories and the warm fuzzy feelings of a wonderful mother….

…And, Kirk thought as his face fell slightly, a father who was never there much, due to his time and duty in Starfleet. Yet in a way, it was still because of his father that he was out here in the first place. A part of him always believed that he was naturally born with the desire to command his own ship and see the stars, but the thing which originally instilled the desire was those lonely nights when eight-year-old Jimmy Kirk would stay up late gazing out the open window at the stars. Kirk could remember the gentle breeze ruffling his sandy blond hand as he stared up at the beautiful, glimmering lights in the sky, fantasizing about what might be out there and what his father might be doing.

He straightened in his chair, snapping out of his reverie as Spock and Chekov could be heard exchanging specific coordinates as the charting project continued. Yeah, Kirk thought, there were probably many, many times when Dad got stuck doing mundane (but necessary, these jobs were necessary) like this.

The turbolift doors hissed open to permit entry to a young and pretty yeoman; Kirk thanked her yet barely glanced at her as she handed him a pad and a stylus containing paperwork to sign. It contained the latest duty roster, a couple of reports about the performance of the crew, and it mentioned the newest crew members who had recently been transferred to the Enterprise. A couple of new, raw graduates had been assigned to the ship, a couple of others had transferred from a starbase.

As Kirk read over the information, he made a mental note to go introduce himself to the new personnel in a little while. This would be the perfect time to do it, considering this was one of those missions where his presence wouldn't be required on the bridge all the time. It was his way of trying to make new crew members feel welcome and integrate into their new lives onboard his ship, plus let them know that their captain cared about them as individual people, not just names and ranks.

He also knew from personal experience in these matters that green rookies who came straight out of the academy had different tendencies than older personnel transferring from a starbase, but each type of individual could have some difficulties adjusting to their new life onboard a large starship far away from everything that they were used to.

Fresh graduates may have passed all of their classes, gotten excellent training and gotten excellent grades. But, while it was important to remember that not everyone was the same (nor did they fit the same brash "I wanna prove to everyone on the ship and everybody back home that I'm awesome" mold), there were some things that they had to learn the hard way through actual experience and exposure to the universe itself. There was only so much that sterile classrooms and even boot camp training measures could teach anyone.

In the end, space was full of unknowns. There would always be some things about space and alien entities, environments and anomalies that no textbook could ever prepare anyone for, especially since there were a lot of things that were still unknown and unheard of. If these youngsters didn't fully realize yet that the knowledge they crammed into their heads and the fact that they passed stress tests and other rigorous training and preparation routines in the academy wouldn't prepare them for everything, he was confident they would learn eventually.

On the other hand, personnel who had only served on starbases rather than starships were in for a similar kind of adjustment, for different reasons. They already had a lot of experience under their belts regarding how things worked and they had no doubt seen some examples of what can go wrong in space, since some of them were personally responsible for overseeing (and assisting with) the repairs and general maintenance of starships and civilian vessels. Plus there were times when, every so often, an alien vessel might dock.

However, the starbase personnel had one thing in common with people who came fresh out of the Academy back on Earth. While a starbase could be seen as similar to a much larger, stationary ship in a way, it was also much more like a city than a ship. There were certain creature comforts that were available on starbases (such as markets and gift ships) that weren't on starships, plus one had to go through stricter channels to call home, particularly during some missions where they were far from Earth or, in some cases, close to enemy territory.

Kirk made a mental note that one of the transferred personnel from the starbase had added a personal note to the report, a mild complaint that voiced her displeasure about how she couldn't take her kitten with her onboard the Enterprise. Kirk was confident she had found someone to look after her pet before she left the starbase, but the crewmember would simply have to accept that animals aboard starships were non-regulation. The only non-sentient creatures allowed aboard were those specifically authorized to be in the Enterprise's lab, specific creatures that were not only treated humanely, but present for specific studies on certain exotic and unique life forms.

That was when the Captain got an idea. If this Lieutenant truly was an animal lover, and if she wanted to be around animals…

"Thank you, Yeoman," he said, handing the pad and stylus back to her after scrawling his signature on the paperwork. "Mr. Spock, you have the con," he told his First Officer as he stood from the command chair. "Call me if anything changes."

"May I ask where you will be, Captain?" the Vulcan asked, barely glancing up from his science station. He was an excellent multitasker, which meant he was still doing what he had been doing before, and still fully focused on it. He was simply dedicating a tiny part of his consciousness to his surroundings (as he always did) to collect relevant information.

"Mess hall, I'm going to grab a sandwich," Kirk replied. He didn't add that he also figured the new crew members might be down there right now, since it was lunch time, and it might be an ideal time to catch them in a casual, comfortable environment.

Spock's gave the tiniest nod, one that only those paying close attention or those who knew him very well would recognize as the equivalent of "Message received, see you in a while" or some such. The Vulcan didn't move away from his science station, as that was where he needed to work from; there was no reason for him to go take the Captain's chair for now.

Kirk was vaguely aware of the turbolift doors whooshing shut behind him as he entered the lift. He ordered it to take him to the level on which the main mess hall was located, and waited silently until the lift stopped and the doors hissed open again.

When he entered the mess hall, his senses were mildly assaulted by several new sensations hitting him at once, a significant contrast to the quieter, scentless environment of the bridge. Here there was the aroma of many different kinds of food, including some alien dishes, which made the place smell like a smorgasbord, along with the general chatter of off-duty personnel (along with those on break) chattering amongst themselves.

A few heads turned in his direction as he entered, but most of them generally ignored him. They knew that the Captain often came in, and those familiar with his easy-going ways already knew that he didn't expect, nor want, formal shows of "Captain on deck" or for anyone to pay attention just because he entered the room. Such expectations would have been unrealistic anyway, not unless a commanding officer wanted his crew to be an edgy bundle of nerves all the time.

Kirk wanted his crew to respect him, but also see him as just another human. As he casually walked over to the replicator to place an order for a chicken sandwich and coffee (no tribbles this time, thank God), he noticed that the four new crewmembers were sitting together in the far corner of the room, eyeing him as he moved.

It wasn't entirely unusual for newly transferred personnel to clump together for a temporary period of time when they'd first arrived, especially if they had formed a tentative bond after meeting on the shuttle on the way to their new destination. (The transporters had been down for routine maintenance at the time, thus that was how they arrived.) And while there were no cliques onboard the Enterprise, not to Kirk's knowledge at least, he could understand that these people might want some time to themselves before they started accepting other friendships or introducing themselves to others. After all, they were used to their old environments and their former social circles.

Kirk glanced at the receptacle before him as a soft, barely audible "ding" alerted him to the arrival of his lunch. Oddly, the panel that slid open to reveal it made a little more noise than the "ding" did. He took the tray and smiled warmly as he casually strode toward the table with the new recruits.

"Hello, I'm Captain James T. Kirk. Mind if I join you?" he asked with his friendly, boyish charm, hoping that approach would make them feel at ease and let them know this was purely a social chat, nothing more.

Four pairs of eyes stared at him like identical, wide-eyed owls for a moment. Then the youngest of the lot, barely nineteen, stood up and saluted. "Ensign Carver Joves, sir!" The awe in the young man's eyes was obvious.

"At ease, Ensign," Kirk told him mildly, momentarily worried that the kid would sprain something if he didn't tell him to relax. He managed to keep a fairly straight face even as the woman next to Carver grabbed the young man's arm and pulled him back into his chair, though his eyes never left Kirk.

The woman, who Kirk recognized as Lieutenant Amber Allens, made a matter-of-fact kind of welcoming gesture toward one of the empty seats. Yet something about the way she eyed him also suggested she was thinking, Well, you're the Captain, you don't exactly need to ask us for permission to sit with us.

Kirk slipped into the pro-offered chair and set his tray on the table before him. He took note of what each of them were eating, and saw that apparently they were eating basically the same things. They all had juice, and they had sandwiches and salads.

"Was there a reason you wanted to speak with us, sir?" the other Ensign, Sally Isis, asked. She had not moved from her chair, nor had she saluted or done anything, but she sat erect in her seat, her back ramrod straight.

"Relax, I just wanted to meet all of you and see if you'd settled in," Kirk replied mildly. "There won't be any court marshals today, unless you spill juice on my uniform shirt. Those stains are difficult to remove and I don't want my laundress chewing my ears off again."

For a moment, it seemed that Carver was taking him seriously, and even made a move to push all of the drinks back away from Kirk. But a snort from Ambers made the young man realize Kirk was yanking their chains a little.

"We're doing fine, Captain," said the fourth person at the table, someone who was about five years older than Amber, exactly twenty-eight. "There's no problems and nothing to worry about." Her name was Jill Matthews.

Kirk had had every intention of talking to these people for a while longer, to feel them out, to get to know them. He had every intention of speaking to Amber about her cat, and offering her a position at the lab with the creatures in there. He had every intention of making the most of the next half-hour or so.

However, even in the best laid plans of mice and men, things could go awry.

"Bridge to Captain Kirk," Uhura's voice blared over the mess hall's speaker. "Bridge to Captain Kirk!"

"Excuse me," Kirk murmured, getting up to answer the call. He thumbed the intercom button with some annoyance. "Kirk here."

"Captain you are needed on the bridge immediately. We have encountered a ship, and the person onboard has requested to speak to you directly."

"On my way." Kirk punched the intercom off. He refused to speculate on what it was, who it was, or what was going on until he got to the bridge; he'd learned a long time ago that guessing could be dangerous.

He passed by the table just long enough to grab his sandwich and coffee, figuring he would just eat it on the bridge. "Enjoy your lunch," he told the group.

"Duty calls," he heard Sally murmur as he left the room.

The only hunch Kirk indulged himself whatever might be going on was the obvious fact that apparently whoever it was had peaceful intentions, at least so far. After all, the ship had not been set to yellow or red alert. That could mean it was a Federation vessel, or the member of an ally race or a neutral party. Or perhaps it could be members of a race they had never met before, and thus far they had peaceful intentions.

A small part of Kirk actually hoped they could be nice, friendly, peaceful aliens who might just want to invite them over for tea and crumpets. He smiled at the thought, thinking that would be a nice way to introduce the new crew members to a new species.

When he arrived on the bridge, he could tell that his bridge officers were curious, and perhaps a little tense. The image on the large viewscreen showed a ship of a make and design he had never seen before. Judging from the general design, shape and proportions though, he could tell it was probably some form of one-man craft, despite the fact that it was amplified on the screen.

Spock's emotionless monotone confirmed what he was thinking, "Captain, this vessel emerged from a nearby asteroid field that we had just begun to scan and chart. It appears to have only one occupant, and I have already attempted to cross-reference scans of the life-form with the records of all life-forms that are stored in our computer database. This is a species we have never encountered before."

Kirk nodded as he stepped in front of his command chair, choosing to stand and gaze at the screen rather than sit. "Uhura," he said, without taking his eyes off the image, "you said that the occupant wanted to speak to me?"

"I am trying to re-establish a connection," the communications' officer replied. Her knitting project had been half-hazardly tossed onto the console beside her, as if she'd been forced to put it aside in a hurry. That yarn would probably be a tangled mess to sort out later, but that was the least of her concerns at the moment. "They appear to be having some technical difficulties over there."

"Our scans show mild damage to their propulsion," Spock said.

"That means they might be having problems with some of their other systems as well," Sulu commented.

Kirk nodded as he slowly sank into his chair. One of the problems with encountering alien technology for the first time was that sometimes, it could be difficult for even the most sophisticated Starfleet sensors to identify everything that was wrong with a damaged vessel at first glance. Especially when they were unfamiliar with the design and the build.

"Did they say anything?" Kirk pressed with a glance at Uhura. He felt mildly annoyed that he was having to press for information he should have been told upfront, but he cut her some slack. She was focusing on trying to establish a connection, and was having some difficulty doing so, judging from her determined expression and the frustrated crease in her forehead.

"I'm still running some of their language through the Universal Translator… it seems to be having some difficulty with it," Uhura said. That would explain it, Kirk thought, she was currently multitasking. "But they insisted on speaking with our Captain and said they wouldn't speak to anyone else directly. However, I did manage to work out what they call themselves."

"What is it?" Kirk prompted.

"Prothean."


	2. Chapter 2

It took nearly thirty standard minutes for the bridge crew of the Enterprise to re-establish a connection with the life-form, and by that point it was too late. The one-man ship, which had obviously been through some kind of battle (judging from the minor scorch marks on its hull), had dying engines and its life-support systems were failing.

"Can we get a lock on him?" Kirk demanded, wanting to know if it was possible to save the life of the being onboard.

"I am unable to get a lock with the sensors," Spock reported crisply. "I will try locking onto the cockpit with a narrow beam scan."

Kirk's hand touched the intercom on the armrest of his command chair, where he contact Lieutenant Kyle and ordered him to be ready for an emergency transport in Transporter Room 2. He then called Doctor McCoy and alerted him to a potential medical emergency, and ordered him to have a trauma team standing by to assist.

Once the Captain received the usual acknowledgements and affirmatives, it was back to sitting on the edge of his seat and mentally biting his nails while his crew did their jobs to the best of their ability. Once again, sometimes being the head commanding officer had its downsides, especially when it came to waiting to see how something would play out. There were times when he could give commands and makes sure everybody was informed of what was happening so they could do their jobs.

But in times like this… it was almost as bad as those quiet, mundane tasks of space-charting where he could do nothing except let his people do their work. Except in this case, it was a case where he wanted to do something but he couldn't. If Spock or Kyle couldn't magically make things work to beam that Prothean off the ailing ship, or if Uhura couldn't magically get through to the malfunctioning equipment on the other vessel, then…

What good could he do? In a way, it made him feel like the Captain's role was, at least sometimes, nothing more than a form of lip service to stay on top of everything, give permissions, and play intercom to make sure other stations and departments were prepared.

Stop it, he told himself firmly. He wasn't sure what was wrong with him today or why he felt so easily agitated by everything. Perhaps it was simply a sign that he really needed a break, perhaps some shore leave. Or… in a strange way, maybe he was just homesick.

Just then, the worst news imaginable broke through to his mildly drifting thoughts. Spock didn't even glance up from his scanners as he gave the unfortunate, tragic news, "Captain… the life signs have extinguished." Now he looked toward the Captain, and there was just a bare trace of sorrow in the back of his normally stoic eyes. "Life support has completely failed."

No life form that required life-support could possibly survive the vacuum of space. The Vulcan's voice never wavered, never revealed any kind of feeling, but… Kirk had seen that momentary glint in his friend's eyes, no matter how brief or fleeting it had been.

Spock no doubt considered this something of a failure on his own part. Kirk rose from the command chair and walked toward the science station. "You did everything you could," the Captain told the science officer, believing with every part of his being that Spock had literally done everything possible to save that life. This was simply a case where luck had been against them.

Kirk found himself gazing at the screen again. The alien ship was now tilted sideways and drifting somewhat, yet another telltale sign of the death within. Now it was little more than salvage, although Kirk had to shudder inwardly at the thought of what it would be like to die without heat, air or gravity. But at least it had been quick; he doubted the creature within had suffered for very long.

He returned to his command chair and was just about to cancel the medical teams standing by (and dismiss Kyle who was still waiting for further orders) and then order a tractor beam to bring the tiny ship into the hanger bay, when something unexpected happened.

"Captain!" Uhura nearly shouted in her excitement. "I'm getting something from the ship! The Prothean is alive and he is requesting assistance!"

Everyone (even Spock, judging from the way he glanced up sharply from his terminal) seemed shocked and relieved at the news, if rather puzzled by it. "How is that possible?" Chekov said aloud.

"Can we get a transporter lock?" Kirk asked again. They could wonder about the why later. Right now, the important thing was to save that pilot, if he was indeed alive.

Spock was shaking his head. "Negative. I am not detecting any life forms onboard." The puzzlement was slightly evident in his tone.

"Scotty," Kirk spoke through the intercom, "Prepare a tractor team."

Within two minutes, they had successfully locked a tractor beam onto the vessel and were pulling it into the Enterprise's hanger bay. It had to be done very, very carefully, especially since the vessel appeared to be slightly fragile (especially due to the damage) and they didn't want to crack it open like an egg.

"Are you still getting anything?" Kirk asked Uhura, hoping that whatever life might be onboard hadn't been snuffed out.

"Affirmative," Uhura acknowledged. "And it's a live transmission, not an automated recording. It seems that he is trying to tell us something, but there is a lot of static and the Universal Translator is struggling with the syntax and grammar."

"Let's hear it," Kirk said. "Put it on speakers."

Uhrua obliged without a word. Everyone listened intently to the garbled transmission, yet it was nearly impossible to make any sense of it. It sounded like a collection of insect buzzes, clicks and squeaks, and the static made it worse.

After Kirk ordered the medical team to meet him at the hanger bay, he said briskly, "Uhura, you have the conn. Spock, you're with me." With that, the duo headed into the turbolift. It was time to go meet their guest, who was somehow very much alive.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Once the docking bay had been repressurized and the life-support systems had been reinstated, a security team along with the medical team, Captain and First Officer entered to see the sight of the damaged ship up close.

The ship was approximately the same size as a standard Federation shuttlecraft, though it was considerably more bulky. One side of its hull looked as though a giant knife had sliced through and warped it, obviously having damaged the engines and other systems.

It took a lot of elbow grease from several of the muscular security officers (and a touch of Spock's superhuman strength) to pry open the hatch-like door on the side of the ship, and only after an immobile and impossibly warped piece of hull had been melted away with torches.

Finally, Kirk waved everyone back to give whoever or whatever was within a chance to emerge on its own. He motioned the security officers to step back along with him, but they knew to be ready. The Captain could also see the medical team itching to go forward and see how badly the entity within needed medical attention.

Kirk could only hope that the alien would realize they were only trying to help. They had brought the little ship onboard, intact after all, when they could have blown it into dust. But there was no telling how a frightened or uncertain being might react to such a large entourage, assuming it had never seen humans before.

There was also the risk that it could be aggressive. Kirk wasn't overly concerned; his people could handle themselves just as well as he could handle himself. It would just be better for everyone if the creature came along willingly and cooperatively without them having to phaser it down and put it in restraints in sickbay.

He also regretted the fact that Uhura still hadn't been able to process the language through the universal translator. It would make their first contact so much easier if they could at least say hello. However, that's why Kirk had summoned a linguist to the hanger bay; he could only wonder what was taking him so long.

There was a scuffling sound within the ship, and then a tall being finally emerged. That was when Kirk realized how the creature had survived; it was concealed from head to toe in some kind of reddish brown armor, which presumably doubled as an environmental suit. From the look of the material from which it was made, it appeared to be some kind of metallic alloy, possibly something that their sensors couldn't penetrate.

That would mean the alien had had the chance to don the suit moments before it was too late. Kirk's quick-thinking mind also deduced that it would also come in handy in case the creature had been caught in a skirmish, and needed to mask his life-signs while surviving a deadly encounter. It also meant the alien had expressed a degree of trust if it had chosen to break the radio silence and alert the Starship that it was still alive… or it had been desperate enough to take that chance.

Obviously, it had called out to them for help. It also meant that whoever attacked it might still be nearby; Kirk already had the ship on Yellow Alert, just in case trouble came around.

Kirk held up his hands in what he hoped the alien would take as a friendly gesture. "Hello, my name is Kirk," he said, keeping his speech simple for the moment.

The creature tilted its head to one side, in what could have been a human-like mannerism. Then again, it could have just as easily meant "you look tasty and I want to eat you" for all he knew.

Suddenly, before anyone could do more than blink, the alien bounded the rest of the way out of the ship and took three bold steps toward Kirk, grasping his arm in firm grip. Tension rose in the air as the security officers snapped to full alert, raising their phasers, yet they didn't fire… yet. So far, the alien was merely touching Kirk's arm.

To the unmasked, unskilled eye however, it was impossible to know that in those brief seconds that passed, a lot of things passed between the alien and Kirk. The creature got a direct reading of the human's DNA and other things about him, right down to some of the surface memories… and some deeper things. The Prothean's system had the opportunity to update his mind to understand (and speak) Earth English and Federation Standard.

In turn, Kirk saw glimpses of things that were almost beyond his capability to grasp. He felt his knees buckle, yet through sheer force of will he managed to remain standing. He saw horrorfic things, sentient beings converted and mutilated into mindless, empty husks that killed and destroyed. He saw a flash of giant machines… giant starships? They looked like a combination of crayfish and squid…

One ominous word hung silently in the air between Kirk and the creature as the alien finally released him and withdrew his hand. A word that now filled Kirk with sheer fright, and would probably haunt him for the rest of his days whenever it crossed his thoughts.

Reapers.

"Jim."

It took Kirk a moment to realize that his First Officer had taken a position beside him. The Captain blinked a few times, realizing what had happened. Some sort of telepathic encounter, something that the Vulcan was no doubt familiar with and could therefore recognize in a heartbeat. It was very possible that Spock had even detected it.

"I'm fine," Kirk said, although he heard his own voice rasp. He hadn't even noticed that his mouth had gone completely dry.

"Captain, are you sure?" one of the members of the medical team asked. "You look awfully pale, maybe you should sit down."

Kirk waved off her concern with a mild gesture. If he could stand on his own two feet, then he was fine. He felt a chill race up and down his spine as the word "Reapers" flashed through his mind again, and he tried to suppress it.

Then he found solid footing once again, the key to asserting his own willpower over these intrusive thoughts and memories that the alien had shared (whether intentionally or unintentionally, he wasn't sure). Those were not his memories, and those incidents had not happened to him or anyone he knew. He had never even seen a Reaper. That mental acknowledgement helped him regain power over his own mind once again, and push back everything he had just seen as if it was merely a very, very vivid and disturbing recording he had witnessed rather than something that could effect him personally.

Just as the summoned linguistics officer burst in through the doorway (finally), the alien proved that the crewmember's presence would not be necessary by speaking in fluent Federation Standard. "I was able to get a reading on your nervous system, your basic language," the Prothean said. His accent was thick, but no one had any problem understanding his clear, well-spoken words.

Under normal circumstances, Kirk would probably have dismissed the late-arriving linguist officer out of frustration for his tardiness, and made a mental note to reprimand him at a more appropriate time. (Kirk never reported his crew or treated them too harshly for first-time offenses, except in extreme cases.) But right now, his attention was on the alien and nothing else.

"Who are the Reapers?" Kirk asked, already feeling like he knew more about this alien than anyone normally got to learn about someone in the first five minutes of first-contact.

"I am sure you saw at least glimpses of them from my memories," the Prothean stated matter-of-factly. He didn't seem to care at all that some of his personal experiences had been shared into a complete stranger's mind.

"If I may," Spock interjected mildly, although Kirk could detect something of concern in his tone. "When you touched the Captain, you had some form of telepathic contact, correct?"

"You could say that, although it goes much deeper than that," the Prothean answered.

"What did you glean from the Captain's mind during your brief contact?" Spock inquired, his dark eyes boring into the alien's helmet like laser beams.

Whether it was due to something the alien perceived as an intimidation attempt, or if he was simply getting sick of wearing his environmental helmet inside a room with a perfectly good atmosphere, he reached up and took it off. Then he matter-of-factly met Spock's dark-colored pair of eyes with all four of his golden, insect-like ones.

After a brief instant of what could have ended up being a clownish or immature staring contest if either party had been immature (and neither were), the Prothean simply said, "You are concerned because you fear I have taken secrets from your Captain's mind about your ship, and your civilization, possibly other things."

"Indeed," Spock acknowledged, although both of them knew that the answer wasn't necessary. The Prothean had stated fact, and already knew what the Vulcan's answer would be. One didn't always have to be telepathic to understand the reasoning behind another's concerns.

"There is no need for worry," the Prothean said. "The only things I took from your Captain was a basic understanding of his DNA, nervous system, and general biology. That lead to an understanding of the languages he knows." He tilted his head to one side. "The only other things I picked up were some memories of his home in… Iowa, back on his homeworld, and some mundane tasks his mother was performing. I sense that these are cherished, sentimental memories, nothing that I could use to hack or infiltrate your vessel," he added dryly. Obviously, he was providing additional information because he knew the Vulcan wouldn't be satisfied unless he answered.

"However," the Prothean went on, raising a hand (the security officers tensed again, but relaxed when they realized this was for demonstration purposes, nothing more) and showed it to them. "To a mild degree, I have the capability to connect with technology and learn about it. If I really wanted to, I could merely touch one of your consoles and, given enough time, learn all about your systems and possibly manipulate it or alter it."

"Fascinating," Spock said with a raised eyebrow. He was always intrigued by new technology and new concepts he had never seen before, even if he understood the potential security risks.

The chief of security shot the Captain a questioning look of concern, which Kirk caught. No one wanted to say anything directly in front of the alien, but everyone was thinking the same thing. What were they going to do with this Prothean? Could they trust him around their systems? Should they give him free reign of the ship, or not?

Kirk, however, felt that the alien had done a fair job so far of being open and honest to them, and thus far hadn't hidden anything… that they knew of. Of course the alien wouldn't be allowed access to restricted or sensitive areas, but he saw no reason to confine him to quarters or lock him up in the brig… yet.

"Your name is Javik," Kirk said slowly, having gleaned that from the memories they had exchanged. At the alien's slight nod, Kirk went on. "Would I be correct in assuming that you came to us for help against the… Reapers?" He had to suppress another chill at the terror which that word now wrought, and it actually unnerved him a little, on an instinctual and subconscious level, that his own staff looked curious and puzzled by the word than cautioned or terrified.

Yet why should he feel that way? They had never heard of the Reapers before today any more than he had.

"I requested aid from your ship because my vessel was damaged and failing, as you could see," Javik replied, making an off-hand gesture toward the battered ship behind him. "However, I wished to speak to you directly about the Reapers… Captain."

Something about the tone that Javik used whenever he addressed Kirk made the hairs on the back of his neck rise in irritation. Perhaps due to their brief connection, Kirk was able to realize something on a hunch. Or maybe it was intuition.

Javik was actually rather familiar with humans. Not only humans, but some species that Kirk himself had never seen nor heard of before. However, the catch was that Javik saw himself as superior to other races, even if he was apparently willing to deal with them on equal terms… even if it was due to necessity rather than personal preference.

For a moment, Kirk felt angry and slighted, particularly since the way the alien addressed him as "Captain" sounded more like a sassy sneer than an address of rank or a mark of respect. He knew in his gut that he wasn't be addressed as a commanding officer, or even a peer, exactly.

However, something about the Prothean's eyes made him realize something, especially when a face buried amidst the traces of memories popped up in Jim Kirk's mind. An image of a human woman, yet one who had such a commanding look in her eyes that her mere presence seemed to demand respect. Yet somehow… Kirk couldn't even tell if the woman was intimidating, or charming as hell… or perhaps a scary mixture of both qualities.

That's when Kirk understood. This woman… Shepard, that was her name… she was the one who changed Javik's mind about humanity and what the human race was capable of. Not only that, but her example and her charm had softened the outermost rough edges of his nature, the way he was used to looking at other species, to the point where… at least he no longer saw them as something to stamp under his heel.

Obviously, Javik had come from a vast empire, like that of the Romulans or the Klingons, one that ruled with an iron fist and force the conquered races to do things their way. How lonely anyone would be, even a Romulan or a Klingon, if they suddenly found their entire Empires (and everything else they had always known) completely eradicated by the Reapers.

Therefore, it was probably not only due to Shepard's influence that Javik now viewed other species' differently. He was, to some extent at least, a social creature with some basic social needs or instincts like many other races, at least when it came to terms of survival and stopping a deadly enemy.

And Javik wanted vengeance more than anything. He wanted to stop the Reapers, by any means necessary.

In the end, this lead Kirk to realize that when Javik addressed him as "Captain", it wasn't necessarily a put-down. After all, he had apparently called Shepard "human" until she commanded him to refer to her by her rank. No, Javik wasn't sneering subtly at Kirk due to a superiority complex, exactly.

Javik wanted Kirk to prove that he could be as good as Shepard, perhaps better. And Kirk already knew deep in his gut that that would be a hard act to follow. Very, very hard.

"The Reapers will be coming," Javik stated. "I had thought them to be stopped for good, but they are coming back." His voice was laced with anger, a hunger for vengeance, but it was also held a note of bitterness.

"What do you mean, you thought they were stopped for good?" Kirk asked.

"They strike once every 50,000 years along the pathways of the mass effect relays," Javik answered. "I worked with sentients who… came closer to stopping them than any previous cycle ever had. But something has gone wrong."

"What happened?" Kirk asked. What limited memories he had from their touch didn't seem to provide any information about that. Perhaps only a few things had been shared after all.

Javik drew a deep breath through his nostrils and exhaled through his teeth. It sounded like an angry hiss. "I would like to believe that Commander Shepard made the best decision she thought possible at the time, but… something went wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"It was the choice she made in the end."

"What was that choice, Javik?" Kirk felt like he needed to know more than anything. He needed to understand. "What did she do? What did she choose?" He knew deep his gut that whatever it was that this commanding, intimidating, charismatic woman had done, it was going to explain everything… and possibly horrify him.

Javik drew in another deep breath… and then began to explain.


	3. Chapter 3

Kirk, along with everyone else in the docking bay, listening intently as Javik told what was most likely the summary (and the very end) of a long, ongoing tale that no doubt held a lot more details. It sounded like something that would one day end up recorded and preserved in historical documents for future generations to read.

Then again, Kirk now knew enough about the Prothean to understand that he himself was a kind of time capsule.

Javik matter-of-factly told his tale, with a fire in his eyes that made them flash from azure yellow to raw, molten gold like something out of a heated forge. He told briefly of Commander Shepard, a strong leader and warrior, who existed in a parallel universe where humans were also one of the space-faring, expanding species, but there were also several other species that were not present in the universe that Kirk and everyone he knew were native to.

Kirk once again saw flashes in his mind, references to asari, hanar, salarians, turians… he saw flashes of faces, some of whom Javik knew personally, yet no names presented themselves. Somehow, it seemed that the only name that was relevant enough in the Prothean's mind to transfer itself to Kirk's was Shepard.

As Javik continued to speak, it also became evident that there were no Klingons, Vulcans, Romulans, or any of the many, many other species that Kirk and his crew were familiar with. Somehow, it seemed that the only thing this parallel universe had in common was the presence of Earth, and humans.

Kirk was simply relieved that this wasn't someone from the Mirror Universe. He had no desire to interact with the members of the I.S.S. Enterprise again, even if he sometimes wondered if that Spock had managed to make a difference in the ways he'd hoped.

For the benefit of those who didn't even have an inkling, Javik also briefly explained the nature of the Reapers and what they were. Even if it was still a summarized explanation, Kirk fully understood that it was something one would have to see for themselves to fully understand. It was like trying to explain to someone what it was like to suffer PTSD, or to suffer from cancer without treatment. You could try to explain it however you wanted, but only those who had seen it for themselves and gone through it could truly understand or empathize.

In a way, not only did Javik's explanation of the Reapers, their power and might, and their harvesting cycle explain the chills that shot up and down Kirk's spine at the mere mention of the name. It also made Kirk realize that this was possibly why Javik had permitted so much to slip between them. The Prothean wanted the Captain to fully understand what Javik had been up against, to give him facts and possibly influence him to make a decision.

Javik explained how Shepard was the first sentient to ever make it to the true source, the entity which ruled and controlled the Reapers. It was a very powerful and highly advanced Artificial Intelligence that had been generally referred to as the "Starchild", particularly since it had not offered any name or form of identity other than "the catalyst". The dubbed name may have implied an innocent, benign entity. It was, however, anything but.

Somehow, yet another memory flashed through Kirk's mind. There was a legend that was buried deep within Prothean Lore that Javik had read in his youth, nothing more than a childhood storybook really. But it was some kind of legend about a powerful godchild who had been born to a mystical, powerful woman known as Morrigan, and that he had been sent away for his own protection.

However, it was unlikely that such an obscure tale had any basis in reality. Kirk refocused his mind on the present and what Javik was actually saying rather than slipping off into childhood reveries (he'd done that enough earlier when eyeing Uhura's knitting project, after all).

Apparently, at the end of Shepard's mission to stop the Reapers once and for all, when she had directly approached the Starchild, she had been faced with a few choices. A powerful energy wave of her choice could be sent out and channeled along the paths of the Mass Effect relays, a network of highly advanced technology that interlinked many systems together.

If she chose to destroy all synthetic life, it would wipe out the Reapers and any other sentient programs and machines out there. If she chose to control the Reapers, her body would be broken down and absorbed into the system, effecting taking over as a new AI when Shepard's essence and being were absorbed. Or she could chose to allow her body to become a template to make all life in the universe techno-organic hybrids, allowing a new breed of peace between the Reapers and organics.

Or… she could have chosen to do nothing at all. She could have chosen to sit by and let the allied forces she had worked so hard to bring together do their best, throw everything they had at the Reapers, and hope they could dish out all the damage they could until the Reapers ended them.

No matter what, it seemed like a very, very ominous situation, one that provided no real choice. Not one that offered any kind of free will, at least. The Reapers, specifically the Starchild, wanted things to work out a certain way. They were long-lived, eternal, and patient; they saw the mass effect relays and the worlds that existed along their pathways in the same way a human overseeing an agricultural settlement would view his crops. Every cycle, one would simply harvest their latest crop, take it for what it was, and then wait until the next crop had reached its peak to harvest.

Except the Reapers were not picking fruit from a garden, nor were they doing anything to help it nourish or develop. They simply harvested and slaughtered everything that had a chance to rise up from the murky goo and evolve beyond the point of wearing animal hides and shaking their spears at anything that moved. The Reapers merely waited until the next generation of evolving species rose up, staked their claim on the universe and settled in, then slaughtered them all and destroyed everything they had worked so hard to build. Everything they had achieved, everything they had accomplished, gone.

And for what?

His mind had barely begun to speculate on the possibilities as Javik's voice went on; for the most part, no one interrupted him, although sometimes Spock or someone else might interject with a question or to have him clarify or expand something he had said.

This was when Javik finally said that, after he and a few others managed to piece together some facts and form their own speculations, they had reached some conclusions of their own.

For one thing, it was very possible to believe that the Starchild had been lying about everything. Or at the very least, it had been the one to plant the seeds in the first cycle to encourage sentient life to build the device that would be hooked up to the Citadel, the catalyst.

No, the Starchild understood that one day, some of the species' might get clever enough to get up close and personal, possibly to reach it directly. If that day came, the Starchild wanted things to happen in a way where something would change. It couldn't be content to let its prized crops be or let them live without some effect of its influence or monitoring.

It wanted to personally see how any sentient who proved itself resourceful and clever enough to reach it personally would react. It was like placing a rat inside a pretty box and asking, "Which color lever would you like to pull? What flavor cheese do you want?"

If Shepard chose to destroy all artificial intelligences, that would still deliver a serious blow to any and all synthetics, including those Shepard had befriended personally. Thus it would eliminate the Reapers, but it would still punch a blow to galactic civilization in a way that hurt. This implied a touch of a mean streak in the Starchild's reasoning.

If the control option was chosen, the Reapers would still exist; the Starchild would merely be replaced by someone who had proven to be an adequate rival.

If the Synergy option was selected, the Starchild could still have the satisfaction of knowing that the current cycle would be altered in a way it found satisfactory, (a show of raw power on its part) even if the "crop" was not harvested as originally planned.

Or if Shepard chose to do nothing at all, then it was even more simple. Everything would continue just as it had always proceeded long before her.

Shepard has chosen the option she had felt would do the least damage to the galaxy and all galactic life, and preserve everyone's individual lives exactly as they were; the only thing that would be sacrificed was her own life. She would give up her body, her mind, her soul, to control the Reapers herself.

However, it turned out that the Starchild had been lying. Evidently, there was something about each choice that it had not told her, but in the case of this particular choice… she didn't replace the Starchild. It simply broke her down and absorbed her essence and made her a part of itself.

Its intent had been to take the very, very best of the breed and implement the Shepard specimen into its own, highly advanced matrix, in order to enhance itself.

However, this process apparently backfired. Shepard's mind and strong-willed personality turned out to be more than the AI had anticipated, to the point where it quickly realized it had bitten off more than it could chew with this one.

What resulted was a battle of wills that was still happening to this very moment. Shepard was far too strong-willed to be easily indoctrinated, therefore she was too much to be simply absorbed. The Starchild's intelligence matrix was far larger and more complex than a human mind, but when it came to Shepard's powerful will, emotions, and her very soul… the entity had more than met its match.

In the end, the Reapers had simply broken away from the influence and control of the Starchild—no, rather, it was like they were temporarily released—while the dueling personalities attempted to either merge or destroy each other. While that was going on, it meant that the Reapers simply continued their original directive.

Now Kirk began to understand why Javik eyed him the way he did, as though the Prothean was mentally comparing him to Shepard. Just in case Shepard lost and became integrated into the Starchild's matrix... they might need someone who could match Shepard's leadership skills, charm and intimidation tactics to go up against the enhanced Starchild.

Kirk wasn't sure if he could match as Shepard's equal or rival, he could only be himself and do the things he had always done. It was all he could do now.

"You said the Reapers are coming," Kirk said slowly. It was the first time Javik had paused in over thirty minutes. "How can that be? You said that the universe you came from is separate from this one."

"That begs the question of how our Prothean guest came to this universe himself," Spock added.

Javik gave a slight nod. "There was a mighty explosion when the dual between Shepard and the Starchild began. Perhaps the anomaly was already there and the energy merely expanded it."

He took a deep breath, then continued. "I was on Earth, with Shepard, when we made an approach for the beam that would take us where we needed to go. Shepard was the only one who made it through; everyone else was either slaughtered or evacuated."

"So you were one of the lucky ones," one of the medics said, once again eyeing him for any signs of injury. There didn't seem to be any, although it was impossible to tell with that hefty environmental suit he was wearing.

Javik made a slight grunt of asset, then kept talking. "I took a ship from the Normandy's hanger bay and tried to reach Shepard, only to get waylaid; one of the smaller Reapers spotted me, and opened fire. When I proved to be an evasive target, it started to come closer." He lowered his gaze. "It seems that my ship, and the Reaper, were pulled into the anomaly, a rift between universes, somehow caused, or at least opened, by the battle which Shepard and that AI are fighting.

"It took me some time to realize that I was in an alternate universe," he went on. "The anomaly seems stable, but the Reaper that came through is still close to it, scanning this area and perhaps guarding the rift. But Captain, if that rift is allowed to stay open, the Reapers will start to investigate your universe."

That ominous chill raced up and down Kirk's spine again. It would no doubt be harder for the Reapers to take this universe, especially since they didn't have mass effect relays to make long-range travel quick and easy. However…

The Reapers could still do considerable damage. And there was no way to tell yet if the Starfleet vessels would be a match for the Reapers or not yet. Kirk had a strong feeling that they would have to test that out.

"Kirk to bridge," the Captain said, punching the intercom button. "Has there been anything on sensors?" He already knew the tentative answer; if there had been anything, he would have been contacted. And any attacks would have made the ship go to Red Alert and he would have been called directly.

"Negative, Captain," Uhura's voice replied. "We are holding position and running continuous scans."

"Maintain continuous scans and keep an eye out for a very large, alien ship," Kirk ordered. "Keep me alerted of any changes."

"Aye, Captain."

"Kirk out."

With that, the Captain turned to face his guest again. "I would like you to go down to sickbay for a proper checkup," he said. "After that, we'll assign you some quarters."

"That won't be necessary, I am in fit condition," Javik replied matter-of-factly, with a touch of haughtiness in his tone. He still had a problem with humans touching or examining him in that way… or any way.

"That may be, but we also need to see if you're carrying any contaminants," one of the medical personnel said.

This resulted in a bit of arguing, especially since Javik wanted to go directly to the bridge and help look for the Reaper in any way he could. He certainly didn't want to go to the medical bay, and he definitely didn't want to be confined to quarters afterward.

In the end, they reached a compromise. Both Javik and Kirk would go to the sickbay (especially since Kirk had been directly touched by their visitor, therefore he needed a medical scan just to be safe) and then both he and Javik would go to the bridge and look for the Reaper.

Javik begrudgingly agreed, and they headed down to the sickbay.

A/N This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, I just thought this was a good place to end it. I need some time to figure out what to do next.


End file.
